I was watching Wentworth last night and there was a scene where one of the characters flashed back to a time where she had reported that her father was sexually abusing her and nobody believed her and her father yelled at ger for lying about him. The father shot the girl’s horse and said that’s what would happen to her if she continued telling lies about him. This was reminiscent of something that happened to me except it was a cat that gave her life for me. As soon as that scene was over, I turned off the TV and fell asleep where I was sitting. I couldn’t even get up to go to bed. Or take medicine. Or have my bedtime snack. I could barely turn the TV off before I fell asleep. Then I woke up 3 hours later, wired, scared, panicky. I tried to be conscious of my breath, but that made me even more anxious. I tried coloring and couldn’t sit still. I finally walked/ran on the treadmill for 45 minutes and then played games on my phone until it was time for the kuds to get up. As soon as they alley for school, I slept on the porch for 2 hours. Then I had therapy. MT (my therapist) and I talked about that scene and being hypoaroused and then hypoaroused. We talked about my brain being wired differently. There was no big revelation, but it was comforting to be able to explain this to someone who had already heard the story and understands that my brain works differently than most.